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^BONAPARTE 

AND MOREAU. 



A COMPARISON OF THEIR 

POLITICAL AND MILITARY LIVES. 

TO WHICH IS ADDED 

MOREAU'S SPEECH/ 

On the Day of his Trial at Paris ^ 

WITH SOME CURIOUS PARTICULARS RELATING 
TO THAT EVENT. 

" World ! world ! O world ! 



•* But then thy strange mutations make us hate thee." 

Shakespear, in King Lear. 



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BONAPARTE 

AND MOREAU. 



Bonaparte and Moreau appeared in the field, and 
rose by their military achievements, nearly about the same 
epoch. The former, however, is now at the summit of 
power; the latter is proscribed. Bonaparte is oppressive; 
Moreau oppressed. The one is on the pinnacle of gran- 
deur ; the other flies to a land of liberty, in quest of an 
asylum. 

The prudence and superior talents of Moreau led him 
to victory and fame. 

The intrepidity, or rather rashness, of Bonaparte, soon 
advanced him to to an equal rank with Moreau. 

These men, whose fortunes are now so different, fol- 
lowed each other closely in the career of glory. 

In 1794, the second year of the French republic, Bona- 
parte was an obscure officer of engineers. His enterpris- 
ing conduct at the siege of Toulon introduced him to the 
notice of Barras, who was a representative of the people 
with the army employed in the reduction of that place. 

At this period ^Moreau, promoted, from his good con- 
duct, to the rank of general of division under Pichegru, 
had, on the 27th of Floreal, in the third year of the Re- 
public, taken the city of Ypres, which was defended by 
six thousand men, whom he made prisoners of war. 



4 

Bonaparte arriving at Paris to solicit employment, 
Barras appointed him a general of brigade, on the 13th of 
Vendemiaire, in the 4th republican year, and employed 
him in the reduction of those Frenchmen, who, in de- 
fence of their rights, then opposed the revolutionary mis- 
creants. At the head of a band of cut-tKroats, Bonaparte 
ordered two pieces of cannon, loaded with grape-shot, to 
be fired in the most populous streets of Paris, and soon 
convinced himself, by the sudden consternation of the in- 
habitants, how easily they might be governed. The thun- 
dering of the cannon during the whole night, although on- 
ly loaded with powder, wag sufficient to throw the Parisi- 
ans into the greatest terror. It was, probably, at this ve- 
ry moment that Bonaparte percpived a possibility of one 
day crushing them beneath the yoke of Jhis dominion. 

During these scenes of tumult, Moreau was diligently 
pursuing his brilliant course. A stranger to party, and a 
republican in principle, he fought for liberty, imconscious 
of the future, and actuated only by views of honest fame. 
Equal in every thing to Bonaparte, he had already far ex- 
ceeded him in heroic deeds and rank ; when the latter, as 
a reward for his victoiy over unarmed citizens, obtained 
the supreme command of the army of Italy ! The natural 
ardour of a youth of his years highly qualified him to be 
the leader of an impetuous band of young men anxious to 
appear on the field of battle. At the age of twenty-six he 
perfoimed wonders ; and when others met with ruin and 
dishonour, he, by good fortune, was crowned with suc- 
cess. 

Moreau, as a skilful general, was very sparing of the 
blood of his soldiers. 

Never was Bonaparte restrained by so humane a consi- 
deration ; but sought alone for victor}'-, at the expense of 
carnage. * 



On the fourth of Germinal, in the fourth year, Bona- 
parte commenced his campaign in Italy. 

In the same month and year Moreau took the chief 
command of the army on the Rhine, recently resigned by 
Pichegru. 

In the ensuing month, Messidor, Moreau crossed the 
Rhine. 

At this very time Bonaparte gained the famous battle of 
Castiglione. 

Between the latter end of the fourth and the beginning 
of the fifth year, Moreau accomplished his wonderful re- 
treat through Germany, after a march of twenty-seven 
days ; in which his difficulties could only be equalled by 
his triumphs. The affairs of Beberach, Lorach, and Ulm, 
pi'oved him to the world a consummate general. 

Early in the fifth year, Bonaparte left the siege of Man- 
tua to the direction of General Kilmaine, and gained Jthe 
victory of Arcole. 

Towards the end of the fifth year, the army under Mo- 
reau once more crossed the Rhine, seized the fort of 
Kehl, and was victorious at Neuvied. 

Nearly at the same time, Bonaparte obtained a suspen- 
sion of arms between his army and that of the grand 
duke ; which paved the way to the treaty of Leoben. 

At length general Massena arrived in Paris with the 
colours taken from the Austrians in the recent battles in 
Italy; and general Marmont came, almost at the same 
moment, to present the nation with the trophies of the ar- 
my of Germany. These two generals were admitted on 
the same" day to an audience of the executive directory, 
then governing France. 

Bonaparte caused the marquis d'Entraigues to be ar- 
rested in Italy, in compliance with the orders of his govern- 
ment. 



Moreau informed against Pichegru, and sent to Paris 
his correspondence, which had been detected, and which 
proved his connection with the enemies of France. 

No sooner was Bonaparte created first consul, than he 
hastened to Italy with a determination to place his politi- 
cal and military all at the mercy of fortune. Every thing 
succeeded to his wishes, and he returned victorious. 

Moreau, recalled to his country by the hope of peace, 
now entwined the roses of Hymen with the laurels of 
Mars, which he had so nobly won ; but, on the first sig- 
nal of alarm, he tore himself from the embraces of an ado- 
red wife, and flew to his post. Germany was the theatre 
on which his talents were to be exercised ; and Bavaria 
soon witnessed that they were irresistible. Eleven thou- 
sand prisoners and one hundred pieces of cannon fell into 
his hands in one day ; and the Austrians were indebted 
to night alone for the preservation of their army from total 
destruction. 

Bonaparte was triumphant at Marengo. 

Moreau gained the famous battle of Hohenlinden. 

By this statement of facts it appears that Bonaparte and 
Moreau possessed nearly an equal share of military glory. 
But how different were their characters ! Moreau, candid 
and upright in all his dealings, sought only the good of his 
country : Bonaparte, fired with boundless ambition, impa- 
tiently tore away the veil of futurity, that he might con- 
template and feed his mind on prospects of future great- 
ness : and the first use he made of his power was to sup- 
press the army on the Rhine, and counteract the activity 
of its general, now become of too much importance. 

Miltiades and Aristides, in ancient times, received the 
homage of the Athenians, and divided the honours be- 
stowed on them, without envy or jealousy : but Bonaparte 



could not bear the idea of a rival in fame, although an infe- 
rior in power. 

Moreau has been seriously reproached with having in- 
formed against Pichegru, his instructor in the militar}^ art. 
But Mxireau, as a staunch republican, conceived it a duty 
of the highest importance to reveal the projects of a man, 
who, he had reason to believe, might one day oppress his 
. country. Besides, surrounded as he was with spies, it 
was almost impossible that he could conceal from them 
those writings, which, if denounced by others, might have 
plunged him into inevitable destruction. 

With very diiferent motives, no doubt, was Bonaparte 
actuated, when he resolved to rid himself of Barras, his 
protector, the friend to whom he was indebted for the ad- 
vancement of his fortunes, and even for his crown. He 
considered the ex-director as an importunate obsei-ver, 
who might launch into projects of ambition, and damp 
the boldness of his own : and therefore Barras was exiled, 
in spite of his claims on the gratitude of Bonaparte. 

It was not without some marks of resentment that Mo- 
reau observed the oblivion in which he was left ; and from 
a sentiment of pride, natural enough to man, was led to 
reflect an instant on the power he possessed. But, so much 
are the multitude prejudiced in favour of those who are un- 
justly neglected by government, that his being out of em- 
ployment seemed to give a new gloss to his reputation. In 
his retirement at Gros-bois, a country seat which he had 
purchased, where he enjoyed the company of his family 
and a few select friends (most of them officers who had ser- 
ved under him), he sometimes indulged in trifling reflections 
on such of the new institutions as seemed to give the go- 
vernment a bias towards ancient forms ; although, at the 
same time, he warmly praised the excellence of the new 
ones, and swore inviolable fidelity to them as a duty ; but 



8 

he could not conceive how it was possible to make a man who 
was free, alter his opinion. He had fought for theTepublic, 
and did not wish it to fall into the direction of the mob, 
who are actuated only by licentiousness and ambition ; but 
was desirous it should be ruled by men of probity and 
wisdom, or rather (what was impossible in France) that 
a government should be formed upon the model of that of 
the United States of America. Though he did not openly 
declare his opinions, yet, as he was never mean enough to 
conceal them, it served to rouse the latent hopes of the op- 
position, who had formed ideas of employing Moreau (un- 
der whose name they imagined they might conceal their 
plans) as a medium through which to bring about, imper- 
ceptibly, another revolution, and transfer the government 
into other hands. 

Notwithstanding Moreau had for a short time been em- 
ployed in the army of Italy, there was ever a jealousy be- 
tween it and the army on the Rhine. The latter, com- 
pletely devoted to its leader, was far from partaking of the 
prepossession of the former in favour of Bonaparte : and 
consequently the troops which composed it, and the gene- 
rals who commanded them, were kept from the interior 
of France. Augereau, Berthier, Marmont, Brun, Serru- 
rier, and Berruyer, were the constant favourites of Napo- 
leon, and were honoured with the first employments in 
the empire ; whilst Lecourbe, Montrichart, Abatomy, and 
many others, were suffered to sink into obscurity. 

These divisions suggested to the enemies of Bonaparte's 
government the idea of ingratiating themselves with Mo- 
reau, in order to eifect a change, as was before observed, 
favourable to each of their party. To each, I repeat, for, 
with similar interests to maintain, never was there a soci- 
ety of men formed with a more complete dissimilarity 
of opinion than that which manifested itself among these. 



No man in his senses will ever suppose that Moijeau's no- 
ble character could permit him to harbour a thought of as- 
sassinating the first consul, for the restoration of the house 
of Bourbon ; and of this the people were so well convinced, 
that a general expression of indignation burst from all 
sides Avhen his name was posted on the walls of Paris, in a 
paper, entitled, " A List'of the Brigands in the pay of Eng- 
land to assassinate the First Consul :" nor were they less 
indignant when general Murat's proclamation to his sol- 
diers appeared. This mean ungenerous officer should have 
respected the conqueror of the Rhine, as a warrior whose 
talents he could never imitate, and whose fame he could 
never acquire. 

It is, no doubt, superfluous to remark that Bonaparte 
now discovered, with exstacy, an opportunity of ridding 
himself of Moreau, whose plain mode of life. was a per- 
petual reflection on his own ostentation. 

A cause of such a nature as this would have been inevita- 
bly enveloped in eternal darkness, had not its various cir- 
cumstances been assiduously discussed by learned and im- 
partial men, who discovered, in the motives of the several 
parties concerned, the hidden springs by which they were 
all impelled to action. 

That the charge against Moreau might at least wear the 
semblance of truth, it became necessary that himself, in the 
questions put to him at the tribunal, should confess that he 
had had a conference, or rather an interview, with the con- 
spirators. Such was the general opinion in France con-, 
ceming Moreau, that a summons for him to appear before 
a tribunal was regarded by the nation as sacrificing his per- 
son to the pride of the supreme ruler of the state : and, in 
fact, they were not mistaken. The pretended proofs of 
Moreau's guilt were nothing more than ridiculous suppo- 
sitions. 



10 

Moreau, it is true, saw the conspirators. Perhaps he 
even promised that, in case of political commotion, he would 
join the senate, and accept the reins of government, with 
a view either to prevent disturbance, or to frustrate the at- 
tempts of the ignorant in their grasp for power. Perhaps, 
also, he was gratified in possessing the confidence of the 
public, and flattered by their choice of him as their leader. 
But what should we think if, in exposing to view the se- 
cret machinations of the government, we should discover 
that these pretended conspirators were no other than 
venal agents, sent to the hero of Hohenlinden, to allure 
him into a measure contrived for his destruction: — and 
this was indeed the fact. The consular government, hav- 
ing been apprised some time before that a plot was pre- 
parii^g in England against France, resolved to keep a 
watchful eye on it, and, by suffering it to proceed to ma- 
turity, involve, in one general impeachment, the whole of 
those whom they disliked or suspected. General Lajolais, a 
former intimate of Moreau, who had on many occasions 
received proofs of his liberality, was the chosen instrument 
of this abominable undertaking, to inveigle his benefactor 
to destruction. Little art, indeed, was requisite for their" 
success ; as the most trifling symptom of guilt was sufficient 
to enable government to seize their victim ; and in this in- 
stance their wishes were easily accomplished, and their 
perfidy safely hidden under the appearance of truth. 

No sooner was the warrant issued for the apprehension 
of Moreau, than Bonaparte began to conceive some ill ef- 
fects from the measure, and endeavoured to counteract 
them. He, therefore, through the medium of Regnier, 
the chief judge, sent word to Moreau that he wished to 
have a private interview with him at his palace. But Mo- 
reau, emboldened by the consciousness of his innocence, 
rejected the proposal with contempt ; and was, therefore, 



11 

conducted to the temple, which, ever since the death of 
the unfortunate Louis XVI, had been used as a common 
place of confinement for prisoners of state. The most dis- 
tinguished citizens now waited in crowds on Madame Mo- 
reau, to condole with her on the strange arrestation of her 
husband ; whilst public opinion declared itself on all sides, in 
terms not very grateful to the spies of the police. But the 
machine of tyranny was already in motion; and the execu- 
' tion of the meditated plan could no longer be deferred : 
but, as the ordinary tribunals were then composed of tole- 
rably honest men. Napoleon and his confederates had little 
to hope from them. They, therefore, had recourse to an 
article in the constitution, although they were at the time 
about to annul it, which purported, that in case of a sud- 
den conspiracy against the state, special tribunals should 
be exclusively invested with powers to try the accused per- 
sons. Hereupon, men were appointed as judges who had 
already made too conspicu.ous a figure in the revolution : 
the publishers of jom-nals received orders to accommodate 
their reports of the sittings of the tribunal to circumstances : 
and besides this, general Pichegru, whose testimony might 
have cleared up many doubts on Moreau's conduct, was 
suddenly found strangled in prison. No one, however, 
could be brought to believe he had laid violent hands 
on himself; but the general opinion was, that government 
had contrived his murder, as well as that of Doujonville, 
a principal agent of the police, who had been taken off by 
poison, a short time before. The story of Pichegi-u hav- 
ing strangled himself with his cravat (which was too im- 
probable to gain credit) occasioned one of the accused per- 
sons, George Cadoudal, to say, with much pleasantry, ad- 
dressing himself to the president, when the news of this 
singular event was brought to the tribunal : " President, I 
" here deliver to you my cravat; and I solemnly promise 



12 

" to make oath before any notary public, as I now do be- 
" fore you, that I will never strangle myself, nor make any 
" attempt on my life." Many similar circumstances oc- 
curred in the tribunal, which could only be made public by 
a few persons who had been able to force their way into 
the court, through immense crowds of people, who ob- 
structed every avenue, and even filled the neighbouring 
streets. To these persons we are indebted for several par- 
ticulars highly worth preserving. Among the rest, that of 
Limolan exhibiting to the court his bare limbs, still im- 
printed with the marks of the rack, with which he had been 
tortured, in order to force confession. Pointing to the 
blood which issued from the lacerations, he spoke in the 
most violent terms against the agents of tyranny. This 
novel mode of address, aided by the most impressive elo- 
quence, alarmed the judges, and produced a general mur- 
mur. Another scene, not less interesting, was when the 
two Polignacs, brothers, and noblemen of the highest re- 
spectability, were seen warmly contending for the honor of 
dying for each other, and begging finally to be suffered to 
die together. A lady, who had been formerly acquainted 
with them, and had, with much difficulty obtained admis- 
sion to the tribunal, was so deeply affected by this rare in- 
stance of heroic piety, that she burst into tears, and attract- 
ed the notice of the president, who sent a Serjeant to order 
her to be silent, or immediately leave the hall! — These 
events being eagerly reported among the populace, sensibly 
heightened their concern for the fate of the accused per- 
sons. In every private society, in every public walk, and 
even in the theatres, this concern was ardently expressed ; 
so that private orders were sent to the tribunals to dispatch 
the trials as quickty as possible ; and Moreau's cause was 
immediately brought on. It is worthy of remark, in this 
place, that two soldiers, of the gendarmes d''elite^ who had 



13 

promised to give evidence against Moreau, now recanted ; 
being unwilling, as they expressed it, to be instrumental in 
this iniquitous proceeding. At length, at the conclusion of 
a vigorous defence, made by his counsel, Moreau rose, 
and, in a firm tone of voice, delivered the following 
speech : — 

Gentlemen, 

In presenting myself before you, I have to beg that you 
will favour me with a personal hearing for a few minutes. 
My confidence in the counsels I have retained is un- 
bounded ; to them, I resigned, without reserve, the defence 
of my innocence ; and through their medium alone did I 
wish to address the court ; but my feelings tell me I must 
now speak myself to you and to the nation at large. 

Some events in the life of the most virtuous man living 
may be obscured by unfortunate circumstances, either 
effected by chance or by the workings of malice. Finesse 
and artifice may do away suspicion from a criminal, and 
may seem to prove his innocence ; but the surest way to 
judge an impeached man is by the general tenor of his con- 
duct through life. In this way, then, I shall speak to my 
persecutors. My actions have been public enough, I con- 
ceive, to be well known. I shall call to your recollection 
but a few of them ; and the witnesses I desire to bring for- 
ward on the occasion are the French people themselves, 
and the nations whom France has conquered. 

At the commencement of the revolution, which was to 
establish our independence, I was devoted to the study of 
the law ; but the scene was now changed, and I became a 
soldier. It was not from motives of ambition that I en- 
rolled my name among the defenders of liberty. I en- 
gaged in the profession of arms to defend the rights of the 
nation, and became a warrior because I felt myself a citi- 



14 

zen. This character I carried with me into the ranks, and 
I preserved it free from blemish. The more I became en- 
raptured with independence, the more readily I submitted 
to discipline. 

My promotion, though rapid, was not effected by fawn- 
ing to the committees, and by overleaping the customary 
grades. It was the gradual reward of services rendered to 
my coimtiy. When I obtained the chief command, when 
victory prepared our way through hostile nations, my prin- 
cipal care was to impress on them respect for the charac- 
ter of the French people and a dread of their power. 
War, under my direction, was a scourge only in the field 
of battle. This our enemies, in the midst of their ravaged 
plains, have done me the justice to acknowledge ; which, 
perhaps has been of more use to the nation than victory 
itself. 

Such a line of conduct, at a time when contrary maxims 
seehied prevalent in the committees of the government, 
never once exposed me to the persecution or calumny of 
either party. Previous to the 10th of Fructidor no cloud 
had arisen to obscure the laurels I had won. The most ac- 
tive of those who were employed in the events of that too 
memorable day reproached me with tardiness in denounc- 
ing a man whom I regarded as a brother in arms, as long 
as, by the evidence of facts, I was not fully convinced that 
he was unjustly accused. The directory, to whom alone 
the particulars of my conduct were sufficiently known to 
draw conclusions from them, and, who, it is well known, 
were not much inclined to indulgence, loudly proclaimed 
me free from fault. They again employed me in the 
field ; not, indeed, in a very brilliant capacity, but in one 
which soon became so. 

The nation, I dare presume, has not yet forgotten how 
faithfully I discharged the ti'ust reposed in me. It has 



15 

not forgotten with how much readiness I took a subordi- 
nate command in Italy, and conquered my feelings upon 
the occasion. It has not forgotten that I was re-established 
in the chief command by the ill success of our armies, and 
that I was again made a general, as it were, by our misfor- 
tunes. It undoubtedly remembers that I twice supplied the 
wants of the army with the spoils of the vanquished ; and 
that, after having twice put it in a condition to cope with 
the Russians and Austrians, I twice resigned the com- 
mand of it, to take another of much greater responsibility. 

At that period of my life I was not a more staunch re- 
publican than I had been before ; but I appeared so, by be- 
coming more conspicuous. On me alone the notice and 
confidence of such as could at pleasure g^ve the govern- 
ment what bias they pleased, seemed to be entirely placed. 
They proposed to me (as is very well known) to put my- 
self at the head of a popular commotion, similar to that of 
the 18th Brumaire: so that my ambition, had it aspired 
much, could have easily clothed itself in all the appear- 
ances, nay even the glory, of the most refined sentiments 
of patriotism. 

The proposals were made to me by characters who stood 
very high in the annals of the revolution, as ardent lovers 
of their country, and as men of eminent talents in our na- 
tional assemblies. Their offers, however, I disdained to 
embrace ; for, although I felt myself adequate to the task 
of commanding the armies of the republic, I had no wish 
to command the republic itself. 

I was at Paris on the 18th of Brumaire; and that revo- 
lutionary epoch, which had been brought about by others, 
and to which I was a total stranger, could not in the least 
alarm my conscience. As it was directed by a man whose 
fame was emblazoned in the most brilliant characters, I 
had naturally brought my mind to hope for favourable re- 



16 

suits ; and I therefore seconded his endeavours to the ut- 
most of my power, although opposite parties were eagerly 
soliciting me tb put myself at their head, to oppose him. 
I obeyed the orders of Bonaparte at Paris ; and by so do- 
ing I assisted in raising him to that degree of power which 
circumstances seemed to justify. 

Some time after, when he offered me the chief com- 
mand of the army on the Rhine, I accepted of it from him 
with as much devotion as if it had been given me by the 
republic. Never were my military successes more rapid, 
more numerous, or more decisive, than at that period ; the 
splendor of which was reflected on the government by 
which I am now accused. 

When I returned from the scene of so many triumphs 
(the chief advantage of which was the bringing about a 
continental peace) my journey was cheered, in every quar- 
ter, by shouts of national gratitude. 

Was this, then, a moment to become a traitor, even if 
my mind had been capable of entertaining such a design ! 
No one is insensible of the attachment which armies have 
to favorite leaders, who have led them to victory. Sup- 
pose one of these were an ambitious traitor, would he not 
have taken advantage of the time when he had an hundred 
thousand victorious troops at his disposal to execute his 
projects, instead of returning to the bosom of a nation still 
in a state of ferment, and uncertain as to the form and 
duration of its political existence ? 

My only wish was to disband the army, and bury my- 
self in the retreats of civil life. 

In those retreats, which I am far from thinking inglori- 
ous, I certainly preserved my honour, which no human 
power can ever deprive me of. I enjoyed the remem- 
brance of my past actions, the testimonies of my con- 
science, the esteem of my fellow-citizens and foreigners ; 



1/ 

and, I dare presume, the voice of posterity will declare 
the uprightness of my conduct. 

I was in possession of a fortune which could only be 
thought great as my desires were moderate ; and my con- 
science could not accuse me of having acquired it unfairly. 
I fully enjoyed the emoluments granted me on my retreat 
from the araiy. I was, indeed, content with my lot; for 
I never envied the lot of any man living. I was sun'ound- 
ed by friends, who had no more to expect from my credit 
and fortune, but who still adhered to me from motives of 
personal attachment. — My mind was so completely occu- 
pied with these blessings (the only ones I was ever enabled 
to value highly) that no ambitious desire could possibly in- 
trude. How, then, should it be suddenly open to crimi- 
nal designs ? 

So well was my way of thinking known, so completely 
diverted were my ideas from the paths of ambition, that, 

'er siiice the victory of Hohenlinden, to the day of my 
-a"rest, no one could accuse me of any other crime than that 
of talking freely ; and, indeed, my conversation was often 
favorable to the measures of government. But if, by acci- 
dent, it was not always so, how could I imagine that to be 
a crime in a nation which had so often decreed the liberty 
of thought and speech, and which, even under its kings, 
had so fully enjoyed that privilege ! 

I must confess that, as I was born with an openness 
of disposition which characterizes the country in which I 
first drew breath, I could not easily lose it in camps 
(where every thing conspires to heighten its effect), or in 
a revolution, where it was so often extolled as a virtue 
in individuals, and recommended as a duty to citizens at 
large. But do conspirators talk loudly on matters which 
they disapprove ? Can candour and fair dealing be con- 

G 



18 

nected with the mysterious and dark machinations of in- 
triguing men ? 

If I had wished to cairy any secret plans into execu- 
tion, I should have dissembled my real sentiments, and 
courted an employment which would have given me com- 
mand of the national forces. I had instances enough of 
success, in undertakings of such a nature, to make me 
sanguine. I knew that Monk, in the execution of his de- 
signs, did not withdraw from the reach of his army, and 
that Brutus and Cassius approached the heart of Caesar 
only to pierce it. 

Magistrates, I have now nothing more to say. Such 

has been my character, and such has been the tenor of my 

conduct through life. I solemnly call heaven and earth to 

witness the innocence and integrity of my intentions. You 

know your duty. France awaits your decision; Europe 

contemplates your proceedings ; and posterity will record 

them. .^ 

I II 

GENERAL MOREAU. 



The effect produced by this speech was sensibly felt, 
even among the judges, who, not knowing how to proceed, 
sent a message to government, requesting to be directed 
as to what sentence they should pass on Moreau. For 
the credit of the government it was necessary that some 
punishment should be inflicted on him ; else, how could 
the conduct of Bonaparte, in this instance, be justified? 
Should Moreau escape the clutches of the tribunal, the 
motives for which he had been exposed would be too ma- 



19 

nifest, and the plot would be too glaring to deceive evea 
the most credulous. It was therefore agreed, as they 
could do no better, that he should be sentenced to two 
years banishment from France. 

If we consider for a moment that it was at this period 
that Bonaparte strove to assume the title of emperor, and 
that the conspiracy itself was made a pretext to hasten the 
intended alteration in the French government, we shall 
not be at a loss to comprehend the whole of this nefarious 
business. For our part, we deem further reflections en- 
tirely superfluous, as every judicious and impartial reader 
must be sufficiently convinced by the facts already ad- 
duced. 



FINIS. 



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